some calgary, amid the foothills, snow;

Christine and I and our wee two monsters were in Calgary not that long back, I'm sure you might have known. You probably saw my prior notes on our Toronto and Kingston readings and adventures [or my notes from reading in London, Ontario in January; or my notes on reading in Toronto last December]. We were in town to read as part of the single onion reading series over at Shelf Life Books, but more on that in a moment. We were a few days in Calgary for the sake of a reading, but flying out on Rose's eleventh birthday, so we certainly couldn't leave them behind, taking them along for the trip, and staying with Christine's aunt and uncle who live there, somewhere.

Our first day was a bit of a wander, heading over to a mall to catch lunch (as much of Calgary does seem designated "mall space," it would seem) and see what options our young ladies might have for clothes-shopping. After begging for months, we booked Rose (and Aoife) for iFLY, an indoor skydiving place. They were booked two rounds each, and Rose really had been begging for this for months; of course, she hated it. Aoife took three rounds, instead, and completely loved it. Rose appreciated the experience, but basically never wishes to ever do that again.

[above: me (left) and a bear statue (right)] It did look rather fun, but I'm not sure I'd be open to such, either. From there, we headed over to the University of Calgary Press offices, quickly, where I got to meet my publisher, Brian Scrivener [his ABC Bookworld profile is wildly out-of-date, I'd say] for the first time, and found out that my next collection through the press, the book of sentences, has a scheduled release date of October 15, 2025, so that was pretty exciting (I should probably be thinking about tour plans, possibly). And I was given a copy of my pal Andy Weaver's new poetry collection, The Loom [which I've already reviewed over here]. The young ladies were bored out of their minds at the visit to the office, to the campus, quietly writhing around on the carpeted floor (we didn't stay long).

Once back to the house, Christine's aunt Nancy had some dinner for the young ladies and a birthday cake and gifts for Rose, as well as the neighbour teen to babysit; our quartet of grown-ups went out for pre-reading dinner, meeting up with a cousin of Christine's I hadn't met yet (who lives in Calgary, and was delightful).

The Calgary crowd at our reading was energized, lively. What a fine crowd! Christine and I both noticed that the audience were reacting to elements of our readings we weren't used to hearing responses to, so that was pretty interesting. There was even a live-stream for those unable to attend in-person, although I can't seem to figure out if that same recording is available archivally online anywhere. Hm.

It was grand to see Colin Martin, Nikki Sheppy, Weyman Chan [see my review of his latest], Adrienne Adams and Monica Kidd (new novel out next year, you know)! It was grand to meet Ben Berman Ghan (I bought his new book, as I've heard very good things about it) and Ian FitzGerald! There was another event the same night in Calgary as ours, which did mean a couple of folk were unable to attend (an enviable-sounding talk by Anna Veprinska that sounded pretty cool; did you know she was there now?). The bookstore also held a remarkable selection of books, more than a few titles I had to pick up while there. Calgary, you have a very good bookstore. The store even sold out of the stack of my new short story collection, which provided me the opportunity for me (I checked with the store first, of course) to even sell a couple of copies out of my bag.

[Weyman, above] After the reading, Christine's energy was run out, but we discovered (randomly) that the reading host lives four houses away from Christine's aunt, so it allowed me to head out for drinks, which was rather fortunate. It was good to hang out with Weyman again; it had been a few years, since a ridiculous story of hanging out post-reading with one of Monty Reid's stepsons (who was still living in Calgary at the time), and Weyman insisting we call Monty on the phone (we did; um, remember there's a time-zone thing between 10pm Calgary and Ottawa, eh Weyman?). Apparently Weyman had been part of a group of students that travelled with Robert Kroetsch and Aritha Van Herk out to Drumheller many moons ago (Kroetsch describes the outing in his updated Alberta, which I do recommend).

The following morning, we managed to make up the trip for Rose (she didn't want to come along; and the flying thing made her grumpy) with a visit to their science centre, which was enormously cool. We could have spent the whole day there, and the young ladies (as well as us, and Aunt Nancy) were delighted. There were plenty of extremely cool exhibits, including a room of particle-light I can't even begin to describe, a device that flung them around in the air (Rose and Aoife each went at least twice), a bed of nails everyone (sans myself) tried, a board where one can write and affix their birth stories (I was tempted, but my story is rather sordid, honestly, with some sadnesses within). Aoife wrote a sad one also: "I gave my mom toxemia." God sakes (we had a wee chat about that after, to clarify that Christine's illnesses weren't "their fault" or anything as such).

Next, Christine's aunt Nancy dropped us at Christine's former (retired) work-colleage/work-mom Sheri's place, where we had dinner with her and her husband, and the young ladies played happily with Sheri's grandson, a trio that worked far better than we could have hoped.

[left: Kevin, Ben, Ken] From there? Nancy returned to collect us, and dropped Christine and I at a pub downtown, where I had organized a pub night at Tubby's with Kevin Stebner (new book with Assembly Press!), since he couldn't make the event the night prior. Nancy took the kids back to her place, and we got to hang out with a flurry of Calgary writers (the venue recommended by Kevin himself), including Ben Berman Ghan (that guy again), Samantha Jones, Ken Hunt (he still exists!), Ethan Vilu (who was good enough to hand out a couple of copies of the latest filling Station) and even Nikki Sheppy, who floated through briefly across the mighty snow.

[Kevin bein' awesome and Samantha being coy] It was a second glorious night across an array of glorious nights. Samantha had been to visit a few months prior in Ottawa, and I can't even recall the last time I saw Ken Hunt, but the rest I was meeting for the first time on this trip, so that was very, very nice. I had envelopes of chapbooks for various folk, as I tend to do, especially during these dark days of another Canada Post strike (give the workers what they want, I say; do it now!).

[Ken Hunt and Christine looking thoughtful, listening intently to the wisdom of Ben Berman Ghan]

The next day, we'd been originally hoping to drive out to Banff, or, failing that, Drumheller, but Calgary managed a record amount of snowfall, so that didn't happen. We made for another mall, took the young ladies to see Wicked, part one (which they considered "mid," or at least all they were willing to offer). And then, an early morning flight back to Ottawa, nestled back into our corners by mid-afternoon. I did manage a ton of notes on both flights, but I'm still working my slow way through all of them. It will come, soon enough.

Make Contact: Circulating Small and Micro Press Poetry in Canada

Congress 2015 is being hosted at the University of Ottawa. Colin Martin (University of Calgary) and Cameron Anstee (University of Ottawa) wrote a CFP for a member-organized session for ACCUTE that has been accepted. Full details below (pdf over at Anstee's original link, here), and further member-organized session CFPs available here. Send them your stuff!

ongoing notes -- the ottawa small press book fair

How does one even begin to explain these photographs (courtesy of Jordan Fry)? Let’s just say you missed a damn good small press book fair, and an even better after-party…

Ottawa ON: Being that he was last year’s winner of the John Newlove Poetry Award (as judged by Erin Mouré), Bywords.ca recently launched Roland Prevost’s first chapbook, Metafizz (Ottawa ON: A Bywords Publication). I’ve been enjoying watching Prevost’s poetry develop over the past two years, watching him engage in that “serious play” of writing poems.

precedents

not just the crook but the crime, never apprehended
in human equivalent chrysalis years, sooner charges laid

a wasp’s nest, grey paper long abandoned, on embers flashes
after the flames, a silence as empty, flecks spirals up

tomorrow, we’re told, a slight drizzling rain
will ride in on an unusual south-easter

Here’s what Mouré said about Prevost’s prize-winning poem, “at the pizzeria : 100% real juice”: “a poem that makes its references deft and plays in language in a kind of delight, without complicating thoughts on behalf of the reader or steering the reader or telling the reader what to think… which leaves space for the reader to be delighted too. Tis a poem that is fully realized: intention and execution coincide.” [note that Prevost reads at the Sasquatch Reading Series in Ottawa on November 25]

[l-r (foreground) Colin Martin, jwcurry]

Calgary AB: Now that he lives in Montreal, former Calgarian Colin Martin was able to come visit us during our little fair, and handed me the first three issues of his NōD, fall 2005-spring 2006, produced by the English Literature Student’s Society at the University of Calgary. I’ve only been hearing about this little mag since it was invented, but had never actually seen copies before. An attractive journal, NōD is perfect-bound, and the first three issues include work both text and visual-based by a whole slew of the Calgary crew and beyond, including derek beaulieu, Jonathan Ball, Jordan Nail, kevin mcpherson eckhoff, Monique Fournier, Anne Burke, ryan fitzpatrick, Peter Norman, Louise Bak, Myna Wallin, Daniel Scott Tysdal, Ken Kalman, Aaron Giovannone, Brea Burton, Chris Ewart, Christopher Blais, Christian Bök, Melanie Faith and Lawrence Upton. Some of the visual translations are particularly interesting (but I won’t tell you by who, just to be difficult); NōD provides an interesting intersection with what other publications in Calgary have been doing over the past few years, including that dANDelion and filling Station.

Between Cotton and Candy

I hate cigarettes; I like boxes.
Fluffy grain dig botox crosswalk face.

I hate janitors; I like white bread.
Torrid argyle crapshoot candy floss.

I hate pants; I like requirement.
Cracker conduction polio aisle Volvo.

I hate bondage; I like Diet Coke.
Drunk custom vinyl hedonist candy apple.

I hate ethnic; I like orange drink.
Comp boot frosting opaque processed. (ryan fitzpatrick, issue #1)

Apparently they still exist, and you can even subscribe (or submit); write them c/o ELSS, University of Calgary, Department of English, 2500 University Drive NW, Calgary AB T2T 1N4 or email them at elss@ucalgary.ca

Crush

Your smile is deaf sweetly.
May ingenious creativity
sprouting out of your hands
tickle oddly muted lusts and perfect stares.
Milk-tantra brownnose
Circum to a riot of pleasure
Cacophony wriggles
beats to the heart pulling tug-of-war
thoughts. (Danielle Arsenault, issue #2)


[Colin Martin]

Toronto ON: For some reason, Nathaniel G. Moore came to the ottawa small press book fair in a black cape, fake black fur cap/ears and face painted like a cat. Why, I asked him? Because I’m on vacation, he said. He sold more books than most of us, and handed out two poems, “Sand People, Single File” and “Elegiac Reaction.” [see my review of his poetry collection here; or his 12 or 20 interview]

SAND PEOPLE, SINGLE FILE

flickers of porcelain in water
alludes to crane of neck
a glistening recession

a mud mask
a flask of hope

someone taps us on the
shore using rustic
love-coloured pebbles

what did they cover those
elephants with anyway
clogging the rest of our
afternoon with rashes

eyelashes, rehabilitate in
the lintless sun, not much to
see out here anyway

I was born here remember
you’re going to die here

convenient you say:

protect pigments nurture figments

embellish the grain, we negotiate
a textured fear, sarlacc because its familiar

force famine suntan over-easy
pigments mint, medium rare,
harvest erotic balm, digestive hum:

fear more than the pit of our stomachs
we do

[l-r; jwcurry's shoulder, NG Moore's flailing, Jennifer Mulligan]

Vancouver BC: Pooka Press publisher Warren Fulton made it out to the second ottawa small press book fair in a row, after an absence of over a decade; do you even want to know what he’s been doing since (some of it include chapbooks, broadsides and film production)? Part of what his Pooka has been participating in has been a series of single-page broadsides, produced in an edition of 100 copies; part of what makes the series fun is that he asks for photo booth photos from the author to include as part of it, and he even produces it in full colour! The most recent one I saw was from Amanda Earl [apparently she, as bywords, and Warren are both participating in this weekend’s Toronto Small Press Book Fair].

tell me the difference
more of us is fools
more of us is angels
known to be angels

crumbs for the city birds
this isn’t avarice it’s realism
pouring through me like holy water
the liquor is strong

sun shadows these pages
where you’ll find the spirit
sitting here the morning after saturday night
i’ve got words & you won’t like ‘em

their eyes try to make beggars of us all
too hot for their hands
fancy cameras Styrofoam cups
why won’t these tourists move

queen of the shopping carts
saint ursula they call me
i can do
just about the most holy thing

drinking guinness on a sunday morning

[l-r; Colin Martin's profile, Warren Fulton's scowl & Montreal writer (& state senator) Jeffrey Mackie]